Tavia Meets the Leaf Lookout — Every day, Tavia counted three warm gusts, then zipped from leaf to leaf before the tall stems could sway shut. Read the full story →
Every day, Tavia counted three warm gusts, then zipped from leaf to leaf before the tall stems could sway shut. She wanted to reach the far side of the flower tangle without brushing a wing, because the bell flowers there smelled like honey and rain. One morning, a tiny voice called, “Duck left!” and a ladybug with shiny black spots stood on a jagged leaf, pointing both antennae at a gap Tavia had never dared try.
Because of that, Tavia followed the lookout’s signals through snapping shadows and leafy creaks. Because of that, the wind shoved her straight toward a drooping bell, its cool petals ringing against her feet—ting, ting! Her wings buzzed too fast. Then the ladybug tapped the leaf like a drum: tap-tap, wait, go!
Tavia took one small brave breath and slipped under the flower just as the stems swung apart. At the far side, honey-rain scent burst around her, and she laughed so hard the ladybug’s leaf bounced. Next time you spot the smiling pair, can you find the gap where Tavia counted three warm gusts?
